The Eve Of
by Ruby Rosetta Red
Summary: A short two part ficlet set pre season four and around the events of '1955'. Hal worries about Leo and when a voice tells Leo that they have to go to Barry, South Wales, he's not happy. Rated T for one use of language. Complete for now.
1. Chapter 1

**This is an extremely short one shot for me. At the moment it will remain that but it could extend into a series of drabbles about Hal during series four. The characters featured of Hal Yorke, Leo and Pearl as well as Being Human itself belong to Toby Whithouse et al. As usual i like to take the toys out of their boxes and play with them for a little bit but i'm always careful not to break them and i always put them back when i'm finished with them. All errors are my own and as usual i'd love to hear your thoughts. **

* * *

_**The Eve of…**_

He won't survive another transformation.

Hal looks down at his friend as he tightens the final strap around one frail wrist and he feels the regret burn inside of him.

He looks so weak lying on the bed. His body is shrunken; devastated by old age and the monthly ordeals that he has to suffer. He can barely breathe; he struggles with every single aspect of his life.

He is old. Old age has crept up upon his friend and slowly it is stealing him away from him.

Hal can't fight against an enemy he can't see, not when his own very existence goes against the grain.

He has over four centuries on Leo but he looks young enough to be his grandson.

He looks down at his friend and he sees the mask slip very slightly. He sees that glimmer of uncertainty, of pure white hot fear but just as quickly it is gone, replaced by that ever present reassurance. Hal can see behind Leo's mask, he's had long enough to be able to.

He knows it too.

Hal straightens up and he glances across at Pearl who stands opposite him across the double bed. He sees the worry mirrored in her eyes and he looks back at Leo.

"I'll see you in the morning." His tone belies his fear. He'll unfasten him from his ties and Pearl will bring him tea and toast and they'll hover nervously until he's recovered fully, however long it may take.

He closes the bedroom door and turns his head and sees the expression on Pearl's face. She's just as worried as he is and just as reluctant to share it with him. To say it out loud makes it all the more real.

"He'll be okay, a bit achy tomorrow but he'll be as right as rain in no time." she tells him and he slowly nods.

"He will be, Leo is tenacious." he replies though his voice lacks conviction.

* * *

He flinches when he hears Leo cry out, as the ritual begins with its unerring sense of timing and cruelty. He turns his head as Pearl materialises beside him and he isn't angered by her intrusion. Instead he offers her a small smile of understanding and watches as she walks to his neatly made bed and sits down on it. She rests her hands primly in her lap and she waits.

Neither of them speak to each other, it's another monthly ritual. Pearl waits while Hal takes out his dominoes and slowly and carefully begins to arrange them on the table adjacent to his bed. He deliberately doesn't look at her, choosing to pour all of his will, all of his concentration into his small worn ivory rectangles that he arranges with practice and dexterity into their familiar spiral pattern.

They remain like that through the night, tense and coiled while in the next room Leo undergoes such terrible trials of pain and suffering. It's hard for Hal not to react and once or twice the tension has threatened to become too much. The glances he's sneaked in Pearl's direction have seen her equally uptight with her eyes squeezed tightly closed, her lips moving silently in prayer.

It comforts him slightly. God needs to look down kindly on Leo now; He has long since abandoned Hal.

* * *

The sky is a new pinkish grey when Hal carefully, almost fearfully peeps his head around Leo's bedroom door. Tentatively he enters and approaches the bed. His blankets have been kicked onto the floor and his pyjamas are once more in shreds. Hal's mouth is dry with fear as he approaches his friend and he crouches down by his bed and he listens. After a moment he lifts his eyes to Pearl's more fearful ones.

"He's breathing." he murmurs quietly and he sees Pearl's shoulders sag with relief for just a moment before they straighten and she pushes past him to lean over him, stroke his forehead and fuss as only Pearl knows how to. She busies herself with picking up the blankets and getting a clean pair of pyjamas out of the chest of drawers while Hal releases him from the shackles.

Between them they make Leo more comfortable in clean fresh pyjamas, the blankets back in place. They leave him in peace, he won't wake up today.

They pass the rest of the day quietly, contemplatively. Pearl keeps herself busy cleaning and making food that Leo won't eat and in truth Hal doesn't have the stomach to indulge in either. While Leo sleeps the effects of his night off, Hal spends the time trying to return to some semblance of normality, not that such a phrase actually exists for him. He's a vampire; there is nothing normal about that. He gradually begins to unwind as the tension from the events of the full moon begin to seep from his bones.

It takes Leo three weeks to recover. He can't get out of bed for the first week He's been left further weakened and diminished by his ordeal. He pretends everything is as it should be but Hal isn't stupid. He's no fool. Leo doesn't have long and it terrifies him.

* * *

Usually Leo is the one who makes sure that there is enough petrol in the car. In today's CCTV age it will only takes one curious person to realise that Hal doesn't show up on film and to ask that first question.

_Why?_

So much trouble can be stirred up by the utterance of that one single word.

Hal is tense and watchful as he fills the car, finally finding a garage suitable to his exacting criteria. No one is paying him the slightest bit of attention but he doesn't let down his guard.

They are in pursuit of a…he doesn't know exactly what to call her but Leo informs them that an angel has told them that they must drive to Barry in South Wales and seek her out, a child and she and she alone will save him. The voice apparently came through the radio and that alone worries Hal slightly but Leo is insistent and here they are, in this God forsaken place looking for God only knows what.

* * *

He doesn't appreciate being threatened by the overgrown Neanderthal who stands before him brandishing a stake. He _especially_ doesn't appreciate the look of such hostility in his eyes and feeling the sharpened end of it being pressed against his heart.

Hal feels indignation at first and then it's replaced with slow growing anger at the unfolding situation. He recognises the scent of him and the irritation increases further as it becomes stronger and more recognisable.

Werewolf.

Fucking _wonderful_.

Hal informs him that he will count to ten, after that he will not be responsible for his actions. After the day he has had, he doesn't care whether there will be casualties or not.

Already he can sense that changes are underway; whatever comes of this trip he knows that life will not be the same for him. It's subtle but at the same time has the potential to become cataclysmic.

It feels as though a cycle is about to come to an end and it scares him somewhat. He wants to turn around, get back in the car and return to the sanctuary that is Southend. He can talk Leo around, tell him that he's been mistaken and he'll try to think of another way that they can save him.

And then he hears the baby cry.


	2. The Eve of Part 2: Promises

**Many thanks to those of you who read and left reviews for 'The Eve Of...', much appreciated. This chapter deals with what is going through Hal's head during the second half of the episode '1955'. There is only one use of dialogue, the rest of it is what is going on inside of Hal. All errors are my own and unintentional but i'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks! **

* * *

**Promises.**

This house…there is something about this house that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. As he crosses the threshold, he looks up at the dingy ceilings, his eyes cast around at the mis-matched out dated furniture and he glances down at the faded patterned carpet that has long since seen better days. This is where Leo's angel said that they had to be? It could be worse, it could be an actual stable and there could be an actual manger as a crib somewhere nearby.

Hal retrieves his ever present domino from his trouser pocket and twirls it between his fingers. He deliberately ignores the werewolf but he knows that he's watching his every move as if waiting for him to put a foot wrong or say something offensive. He turns his head with careful slowness and looks at him. He's right; he's staring at him with single minded intensity. He doesn't smile and their gazes hold for a moment or two before Hal calmly looks away again and pretends great interest in the painting that takes up one entire wall and he frowns at it.

Is that a Hawaiian beach? In South Wales?

It fairly boggles the mind.

Then he sees what is spread out on the table below it and everything inside of him goes still.

* * *

Leo weakens at an alarming rate. Within a matter of hours he is bedridden and frail. Hal knows that his life span is now being measured in hours and moments rather than days and weeks, and he tries not to let the fear overwhelm him though it is difficult.

The house feels…strange. There are so many rooms, nooks, crannies and hiding places and too many _people_. He's used to it just being the three of them living their domesticated existence in their small flat but here with another ghost and that…werewolf…well it's just too much. It sets him on edge.

Take for example, trying to incorporate his routines within his new and he hopes _temporary_ surroundings. He has Annie questioning what he's doing and why…and he has to listen to her opinion on why he doesn't knock down the dominoes he so carefully, painstakingly arranges. He hates having to explain his reasons why he doesn't; it's because of Leo, it's down to control and because he just _doesn't._ Why is that so hard for people to understand? The irritation crackles up and down the length of his spine and he wants her to just…go _away_.

Leo ignores Hal's hushed entreaties to leave. He's absolutely insistent that they are where they are meant to be and this alone frustrates Hal. He's forgotten how stubborn his friend can be when his mind is made up. So here he remains and he watches his best friend slowly begin to fade and he witnesses Pearl's anxiety levels begin to rise. It's hard to not be affected by it but he tries, he squashes it all down and hopes that it doesn't get to _that_ point. He doesn't want to lose control because the last time he did that rivers of blood were spilled.

He leans one shoulder up against the wall and he looks down at his domino, the one that he twirls rhythmically between his fingers. He rests the side of his head against the brickwork and briefly closes his eyes. It drives Hal crazy, utterly crazy that Leo will not see reason of any description and that they're still cloistered in this God forsaken _hole_! Discomfort lies between his shoulder blades like an itch he can't quite scratch. He sighs quietly and he straightens, turning his face up to the weak sunshine and he allows himself that one moment to enjoy the soft burst of warmth. Annie has even discussed the possibility of he and Pearl moving in here permanently. He can't have that; Leo must be made to see that this mission of his won't work. They have to make their apologies and leave. He continues to twist the domino around his fingers as a variety of different thoughts and scenarios tumble around inside of his head.

Maybe tomorrow he'll be successful in making Leo see sense.

* * *

He doesn't like the werewolf and the werewolf certainly doesn't like him. Initially it rolls harmlessly off him, he's faced worse hatred and dealt with it, it is of no consequence to him. He almost welcomes the hostile silence as they walk into the town centre; small talk is not one of his fortes and today he is glad for it.

They're looking for a ring, a _specific_ ring and therefore Hal must tolerate Tom's company as they search for it. Why Leo wants this ring is a mystery to Hal and he's slightly annoyed that Leo asked Tom to recover it for him but it's for his friend and therefore he swallows down his irritation and his annoyance and helps Tom to look for it.

And they find it and they acquire it and in the process a little bit of common ground is achieved. The beginning of an understanding is born. A sliver of tolerance is acquired.

* * *

He hears Annie yell his name and fear bubbles up inside of him. He has never run so fast in his long life.

"It's Leo." she tells him as he rushes past her. His stomach clenches as he sees his friend slumped sideways in his bed and even before he kneels down by his bed he knows that this is it, the moment Leo has been warning him about and preparing him for. This is the moment that he has been dreading. His eyes meet Pearl's across the bed. Her eyes are wide and tear filled. He feels similar tears burn behind his own eyes. He's scared. He doesn't want Leo to leave him. Hal lifts imploring eyes to Annie and to Tom. He does something that he hasn't done for centuries.

Hal begs.

But it comes to naught. His eyes widens when he sees Leo's spirit appear at the bottom of the bed. He slowly gets to his feet when he sees his door appear, when he sees _both_ of their doors appear. Distress burns inside him anew; it holds him hostage, pressed up against the wall.

Now he understands. The flickering lights, Pearl's utter devotion, her slide into near hysteria. It all makes sense to him now. Leo was her unfinished business and he was holding on to give her the ring that he and Tom had purloined from the pawn shop earlier.

After fifty five years they are together and he will be alone. The thought of that is almost his undoing but he can't let them see that.

Fear condenses with ice cold certainty in the pit of his stomach.

Here it comes; it all changes from now on in.

The next cycle is about to begin.

* * *

He barely feels Pearl's embrace, hardly hears her promises to stay with him. He pushes her away, tells her to go, numb, barely holding on to sanity. This is too much, too much for him to absorb. He lifts fear filled eyes to Leo's. He promises never to forget him and he won't. He promises him that he will be okay, that he'll survive but as he watches them walk through their doors, their fingers loosely entwined he knows that he is lying. He won't be, he doesn't know how to be. He has always had them by his side.

The next cycle is about to begin and Leo won't be here to guide him. He turns his head and he looks at Annie and then Tom. They both regard him and he sees the slightest hint of sympathy in the werewolf's eyes, the shimmer of tears in the ghost's and it's too much. He staggers out of the room on rubbery legs.

He stands in the room that has been allocated as his. Pain and grief has shrunk his entire existence to just himself. He stands huddled, shoulders hunched against the fear of what is next, against what the future has in store for him, about what the future holds in store for the rest of humanity. He resists the overpowering urge to curl up into a ball. Pain holds him in its steady grip.

He's teetering, feeling overwhelmed, swamped by it all.

He can't do this. He hears Annie leave and he straightens and regards the room. It's not his room; there is nothing of him here. There never will be.

He doesn't have to do anything, his promises are meaningless now. He has nobody to keep them for. He lifts his head when he hears the baby cry.

* * *

It's later and he makes his way back downstairs. Already everything is different. The thought of never seeing Leo or Pearl again swims around inside of his head and it's hard to accept. He pauses when he sees the spiral of dominoes that dominate the dining table. He stares at them for a moment. Every single day for the last fifty five years he has endeavoured to complete the task of setting them up, creating this spiral pattern and then carefully taking them down again. He vaguely remembers telling Annie why, that if he wants to stay in control then he must learn to fight the smaller urges so that he can train himself to resist much bigger ones.

He doesn't want to remain in control now. He doesn't want to fight, he doesn't want to resist any longer.

He crouches down and for another moment he stares at the small ivory coloured rectangles that have calmed him, have centred him for the past five and a half decades and inside of him he feels something batter against his soul and then burst through it.

He takes a breath and he blows.

* * *

He locks the door behind him and he turns and waits for the shop owner to turn around and recognise him. He wants him to remember him and he feels a thrill chase through him at the thought of his face being the last one he sees before he drains him dry.

He regards him and as he turns, Hal tilts his head to one side and never breaks eye contact. The flash of black eyes and fangs never fails to amuse him; he loves seeing the expression of horror and then the terror that crosses their faces when they're met with their own mortality. Or the fact that they cry out for their God in his mercy and they are always far too late.

He should tell him that their God is never merciful; in fact He is equally cruel with his guidance and His punishments.

The shotgun doesn't scare him and he tells him that, he sees how he goes rigid when he tells him where to shoot him or that it won't even slow him down. He isn't lying because it will not. Others have tried and failed.

He tells him to begin to count backwards from ten. He'll even start him off and he anticipates how the fear and the adrenaline will spice his blood. His mouth waters in anticipation. It has been too long, too _fucking_ long. He can hear his heartbeat hammering away inside of his ribcage like a petrified rabbit's. Oh this will be heaven on earth, he just knows it.

He doesn't care anymore, he wants this, he wants to greet this next man who emerges bathed in blood and high on adrenaline and fear. He has missed him. He has missed _this_.

* * *

Annie pulls him back from the brink of catastrophe. Having a stake pressed up against his back is a factor too and soon vampire and werewolf are face to face and the stake is now pressed up against his heart and he aims the shotgun at his chest. His hands do not spasm as they hold the weapon, he will not think twice. Before Annie begins to speak he knows without a doubt that if he pulls the trigger, he will not think twice about it, he will have no regrets.

It doesn't matter anymore. He will walk away without a backward glance.

But Annie's words make their mark. Slowly the sense of them, the reminders of the promises that he made begin to filter through the chaos that is rolling around in his skull. The pressure begins to lift and in its stead is pain, pure white hot pain.

It leaves him feeling weak and he turns his head and he looks at her and he feels tears shine uselessly in his eyes, feels his mouth tremble and he tries to shore it up. Weapons are lowered, defences raised as both men aim to restore their wounded pride and mask their pain.

Hal still feels off kilter when he returns to the house, the strange alien house that he must now adapt to. The strange house that he must now share with these equally strange people; another werewolf and another ghost. Just not the ones he wants, not the ones he misses with every fibre of his being.

He's alone in the living room and he approaches the dining table once more. The dominoes remain in their tumbled pattern and he just stares at them for a moment or two before he reaches for the small suitcase that holds them that was left on one of the chairs. He sighs quietly and reaches for the first one and with quiet care he begins to put them away.

He remembers the promises that he made to Leo and to Pearl and now that the anarchy has settled somewhat inside of him he realises that he doesn't want to be _that_ man any more. As he sips the tea that Annie has made him he realises that the cycle didn't end as much as changed course. That calms him slightly.

That and the thought of the prophecy coming true.


End file.
